


2 Men and a Baby

by JDSampson



Category: Project Blue Book (TV)
Genre: Fluff and Humor, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-10
Updated: 2019-07-10
Packaged: 2020-06-22 08:53:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19664017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JDSampson/pseuds/JDSampson
Summary: While investigating a reported alien abduction, the boys get way more than they bargained for.





	2 Men and a Baby

PBB: 2 Men and a Baby

AKA: The Monsters Are Already on Maple Street

“Are they serious? This is worse than Flatwoods!” Quinn slowed the car to a crawl to avoid mowing down members of the mob that had taken over the east end of Maple Street.

“I can understand it in Flatwoods,” said Hynek, wincing at a second and third close call. “That was a rural area. Poor socioeconomic status. It’s easy to see why the neighbors there would be frightened by something they don’t understand, but this—”

What lay before them was a cheerful, middle-class neighborhood inhabited by families with good jobs, a good education and enough discretionary income to buy the latest in household conveniences. People who should have had the good sense to avoid becoming part of a mob.

But from the size of the crowd, it seemed like half the population of the small town had fallen under the spell and it was frightening.

“Do you think—” Something hard slammed into the passenger side window giving Hynek a violent start. He bumped into Quinn, who had to struggle to keep control of the wheel and then there were people on the hood of the car and banging on his window.

“I think I saw this in a horror movie.” He slammed on the brakes, then leaned on the horn. The blasted noise chased off a few of the invaders but not all.

That was accomplished by the sound of a gunshot.

The mob parted, leaving only a young, shaky deputy standing alone in the middle of the road.

“What is wrong with people?” Quinn put the car in park but left the engine running. “Stay in the car.“ He grabbed Hynek’s upper arm to make sure he was paying attention. “And by that, I mean STAY IN THE CAR. These people aren’t playing around. Do you understand me? Things go south, you hit the gas and drive – forward, backward, run them over if you have to, but get your ass out of here.”

Hynek rolled his eyes at Quinn’s dramatics. “I doubt vehicular manslaughter will be necessary. I’ve seen you deal with this kind of thing a few times before.”

“While I appreciate the vote of confidence, I don’t think this crowd is going to respond to my charm or my authority.” Quinn unzipped his jacket and slipped his hand in to release the snap on his holster. “Your safety is my primary concern. Goes South—”

“Get out,” Hynek finished and for once it sounded like he might actually follow orders. Unlikely, but Quinn had to try.

He got out of the car, eyes continuously roving, alert for any sign of danger as he approached the deputy.

“Are you the fellas from Washington?”

“Yes,” Quinn said, because to say they were from Ohio would only confuse matters. He was military. Government. That meant Washington to most folks. “Captain Michael Quinn, Air Force. You alone out here?”

The crowd was slowly moving in again, curious about the brave newcomer.

The deputy noticed and started backing up toward his squad car. Quinn had no choice but to follow even though it meant putting more distance between himself and his car. He glanced back and saw the Doc had moved into the driver seat. Good choice.

“Sheriff Mahoney is in the hospital with a broken hip.”

Quinn didn’t like the sound of that. “The crowd?”

It took the young man a moment to understand then it clicked. “Oh no, he’s been in there since before this happened. Fell off his roof a month ago when he was taking down the Christmas lights.”

It was January 28th. They reached the car and Quinn swung around to keep an eye on the mob. The people on both sides of the street were moving inward like two pools of water naturally sliding toward a dip in the center of the road. Another few minutes and they’d be a human wall between him and Hynek. Damn.

“We need to get these people to disperse, Deputy---"

“Cutler and good luck with that. They won’t listen to me. They’re scared and between you and me –” He stepped closer to Quinn and lowered his voice. “I’m kinda scared, too. Ever since the thing with the lawn mower.”

“The lawn mower?” Quinn couldn’t see the car at all now and it was making him nervous.

“Harvey Richards lives next door to the McGuires. He was pulling weeds last week when his lawn mower started up all by itself and came right at him. He’s lucky to be alive.”

Quinn wanted to say that a lawn mower moves in a straight line, so all a man had to do if one was coming for him was step out of the way and grab it by the handle to stop it but. . .

A horn startled Quinn and the crowd. Not a single bleep, but a long, siren like sound as if someone was leaning on a car horn as they drove.

The mob parted like the Red Sea as Allen inched the vehicle forward. So much for ‘get out’. Quinn ran toward the car and instantly felt the pressure of the ranks closing around him. This was stupid and he was going to tell them so.

“Enough!” He made a 360 turn so everyone of them could see his ‘I’m not messing around’ face. “I’m Captain Quinn of the US Air Force and I’m here on official government business.”

“Looks like you forgot your uniform at home,” a man shouted.

Quinn put his hands on his hips and pushed back to casually reveal the gun in the shoulder holster. “Uniform or not, I’m 100% soldier and I am now 100% in charge. Whatever is going on inside that house, I will deal with it. If you don’t walk away and go home, I will deal with you.”

Someone had to test him. Someone always had to test him. In this case, it was an average looking dad of a guy who took a swing at him. Quinn easily avoided the punch, spun the guy and pulled him into a choke hold.

Slightly breathless he said into the man’s ear, “I’m a trained Air Force Captain, half your age, twice your muscle and I’m armed. What the hell were you thinking?”

“If you want him to answer, you’ll have to loosen your hold on his throat,” Allen said as he got out of the car. “And no, I’m not getting back in the car. We’ve wasted enough time. I’m going to do what we came here to do.”

Hynek pressed forward from street to sidewalk and the mob parted for him as he might be the monster on Maple Street.

Maybe the man was an alien.

Quinn let one-punch man go then followed the Doc up the walk to 214 Maple Street. Home of Donald McGuire, his wife Joyce, son Scotty and daughter Nancy.

Nancy, a junior in high school, was the cause of this mess. Or more accurately, her brother was. The youngster had spread the story of his sister’s abduction all over town. Aliens took my sister, he said. No one believed him of course, until a black cat belonging to the neighbor gave birth to a litter of white kittens. Then a hundred-year-old oak tree two houses down fell and crushed a car. (It was during a storm with hurricane force winds but. . . ). The woman next door swore that her husband fell under Nancy’s inhuman spell (why else would he gamble away his paycheck in a poker game) and now there was the lawn mower gone wild.

Weather, nature and the poor choices men make – it all added up to. . . nothing at all, but the folks who lived on Maple Street were convinced that Nancy had been replaced by an alien duplicate with the power to control both man and machine.

Allen knocked on the door while Quinn continued to watch their rear. Not necessary though because as unruly as the mob was, not one person was brave enough to come closer than the sidewalk. Still, Quinn watched until he heard a lock snap and the door open.

“Are you the men from Washington?” Asked the woman on the other side of the barely open door.

“Ohio, actually,” said Hynek and Quinn rolled his eyes.

“Yes, ma’am, we’re from Washington. Project Blue Book. I spoke with you on the phone. You are Mrs. McGuire?”

“I am.” But she didn’t open the door any wider or welcome them in. “You’re not going to take my daughter away, are you?”

“They better take her away!” A man called from somewhere inside the house. “Damn, fool girl and her stories. Unless they take her away, we’ll never get our lives back.”

Quinn exchanged glances with Hynek who said, “may we come in, Mrs. McGuire?”

“Oh, of course!” she said, as if she simply hadn’t thought of it. She opened the door barely enough for the two of them to squeeze past, then closed and bolted it. “We’ve been afraid to leave the house, everyone’s so angry and I don’t understand. My sweet girl didn’t cause any of those things they’re saying she did.”

“What she caused was trouble!” Mr. McGuire in the living room with the pipe – smoking, not lead. “Damn well better not bill us for the visit. I won’t pay.”

Another exchange of glances between the two of them.

“Sir,” Quinn started. “The military pays our salary and we came to help. We’ve investigated quite a few cases involving strange sightings, unusual activity, aliens – and more often than not, we find a reasonable explanation for what’s happened.”

“I already know the explanation. Dirk Bentley. He’s the explanation. There were no aliens. No space ship. Just that Bentley fellow and the backseat of his car.”

“I don’t understand,” said Hynek.

“Maybe I can explain.”

They both turned at the sound of a young woman’s voice. Nancy McGuire was coming down the stairs. The teen was barely 5-foot-tall, brown hair swept up in a pony tail, cat’s eye glasses and 9 months pregnant.

“Don’t tell me,” Quinn said under his breath.

“It wasn’t Dirk Bentley. An alien fathered my baby.”

“That’s a new one,” Hynek said, more to himself than anyone else.

“Is there somewhere we can talk, privately?” asked Quinn.

“Sure, come on up to my room.” She started to climb the stairs as if inviting two strange, grown men into her bedroom wasn’t weird. It was weird so they hesitated.

“Go on,” said Mr. McGuire. “It’s not like she can get any more pregnant!”

With no other choice, they followed the girl, up the stairs and down the hall to her bedroom.

The room was everything you’d expect from a teenage girl – teen idol images torn from magazines on the walls. Record albums strewn around the floor. Two dozen stuffed animals with an emphasis on pink poodles and creepy monkeys on the bed.

Nancy sat down on the only chair in the room, leaving the boys to either sit on the bed or stand. Quinn chose to stand but Hynek sat on the side of the bed closest to her, so he’d be at eye level.

“I’m Doctor Allan Hynek. This is Captain Quinn. We’re from Project Blue Book. Do you know what that is?”

“My mom says it’s a secret government program that investigates aliens.”

“It’s not a secret, everyone knows about it,” Allan corrected, always the stickler. “And what we investigate are people’s claims.”

“Claims, meaning, made up stories.”

Quinn bit back a smile. “Claims meaning, we don’t know what they saw until we investigate. Sometimes our eyes fool us. We see something we can’t explain, and our mind fills in the blanks with what we saw on the late late show.”

She gave him a skeptical stare then pointed to her distended belly. “My mind didn’t make this up.”

“No, but we’ve met your dad,” Quinn said, coming closer. “We can understand why you wouldn’t want to tell him the truth.”

Nancy turned back to Allen. “I know it sounds crazy. Believe me, I thought I had dreamed it all until. . . well. . “ Again she pointed to her stomach.

“Why don’t we start from the beginning,” said Allen as he pulled out his mini recorder. “And do you mind if I record what you’re saying?”

She shrugged. “Why not? I’ve told the story a hundred times and it’s always the same, so you’re not going to catch me in a lie.”

“I’m not trying to. I just want to make sure I’ve got all the details right.” He set the recorder up on the table next to her chair and turned it on. “State your name and then tell us what happened.”

“Nancy Ethel McGuire. What happened is I was walking home after the first game of the season.”

“Game?” asked Allen.

“Football,” Quinn supplied like it was a given.

“I’m a cheerleader. Well, I was a cheerleader.” Again, she pointed to her stomach. “And usually Dirk walks me home after the game. He’s on the team and we’ve been going together since freshman year. But on that night, I caught him making time with Becky Lawrence who isn’t even a cheerleader. She’s on the school newspaper and she said she wanted to write a story about him. When I saw them together, I got so mad I said, I’m done with you Dirk Bentley and I walked home alone.”

“And he let you?” Quinn pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. “What a jerk.”

“I know! So I’m walking home. . . alone. . . and I’m tired from cheering so I decide to take a short cut through Happy Acres.”

“Happy Acres?” Quinn asked then lit the cigarette. As an after thought he added, “do you mind?”

“If you smoke? Course not.” And then she smiled at him in a way that made him a little uncomfortable.

“Happy Acres,” Hynek prompted.

“Oh, it’s a new subdivision they’re building. Used to be a park there between our subdivision and the high school but now they expect us to walk four blocks out of our way to get around the new houses. No one’s living there yet, so I figured it’d be okay if I cut through the back lawns. I’m just coming out the front on to Happy Trails road when I’m hit by this bright light. I thought it was some crazy security light meant to scare off intruders. I look up and there’s a spaceship right above me.”

“A spaceship?” Hynek’s skepticism showing through.

“Well, it wasn’t a plane because they don’t—” She struggled for the word while she demonstrated with her hand in the air.

“Hover,” Quinn offered.

“Hover!” said Nancy. “That’s what it was doing. Just hanging up there in the sky like it was on a string. Not zipping around or anything. Planes don’t do that.”

“No, they don’t,” said Hynek. “Then what happened?”

“Then the light got brighter and brighter and I felt myself being pulled up off the ground. It was like when you’re floating in a dream. Up and up and I guess I blacked out because next thing I know I’m laying down inside somewhere – the ship I guess.”

Nancy stood up suddenly, crossed the room and picked up a small, seashell shaped dish which she handed to Quinn. “My Aunt bought it for me when she was in Florida. Dumb, huh? Who buys a kid an ashtray as a souvenir?”

She returned to the chair. “Anyway, I was laying on this table and he comes right up and leans over me.”

“The alien?” Allen was literally on the edge of his seat. “What did he look like?”

“Ricky Nelson.”

Quinn coughed mid-drag. “Ricky Nelson? The actor? Ozzie and Harriet’s son.”

“The way I figure it, the aliens are probably way too ugly or maybe they can’t even be seen with human eyes, so they invaded my brain to find an image that I liked so I wouldn’t be afraid.”

“Ricky Nelson.” Quinn tapped his ashes into the Welcome to Florida ashtray.

“Ricky Nelson.” This time she pointed to a collage of magazine pictures taped to her wall. “So when he wanted to have his way with me, I figured why not? Who’s going to say no to Ricky Nelson?”

“I certainly wouldn’t,” said Quinn and Hynek made a face at him.

“Oh!” Nancy jumped a little and clutched her belly. “The baby’s kicking.”

“May I?” Allen asked.

“Why not? Most people don’t even ask. It’s a funny thing. When a girl’s pregnant it’s suddenly okay for strangers to touch her stomach.”

Allen set his hand on the girl’s swollen belly, moved it this way and that. “There you go! He’s got quite a kick.”

“Wait,” said Quinn, “you mean the whole baby’s kicking is a real thing? I always thought it was just a euphemism for pregnancy pains.”

“No, it’s real,” said Hynek. “Babies in their third trimester move around up to 30 times an hour.”

“Third?” Quinn did a quick calculation. “Didn’t you say the abduction happened on the night of the first football game of the season?”

“That’s right.” Nancy shifted again, a pain more than just a baby kick.

“First game would be in September. It’s only January. I’m no expert but she’s more than that 4 months pregnant. Isn’t she?”

“Doctor says I’m due any day now. He may kick like a football player, but he wasn’t fathered by one.”

Hynek grabbed Quinn by the arm and pulled him into the corner of the room. “It takes nine months to have a baby.”

“That much I know.”

“So, her story can’t be true. She has to be lying about when she got pregnant, which means she’s probably lying about everything.”

“I’m not lying. Ow!” Nancy leveraged herself up to standing.

“Or she’s telling the truth,” said Quinn. “And alien babies don’t need 9 months.”

“This is insane! She is not—”

“Uh, guys?”

They both turned and saw a puddle at Nancy’s feet.

“I think this is what they call your water breaking?”

“Shit,” said Quinn, then he clamped a hand over his own mouth.

“I’ve heard worse.” Nancy laid down on her bed.

“Are you having contractions?” asked Hynek.

“Like someone’s got their fist twisting in my stomach? Yep.”

“Shit,” Quinn said again.

“Stop that,” Hynek admonished. “We need to get her to the hospital.”

Quinn caught Hynek by the arm and dragged him to the opposite corner of the room (which was only 3 feet away and still within hearing distance no matter how low he whispered). “You saw that crowd. There’s no way they’re going to let an ambulance in here or her out there. And if they think she’s about to deliver an alien baby, who knows what they’ll do.”

Another yelp from Nancy.

“Fine. Then I’ll deliver the baby right here.”

“Do you know how to do that?”

Hynek looked offended. “I do have a child.”

Quinn rolled his eyes. “Just because you know how to make a baby doesn’t mean you know how to deliver one. And forgive me if I’m wrong, but I’m pretty sure your wife did most of the work. Were you even in the room when she delivered your son?

“No, of course not. But it’s not a big deal. For hundreds of years, women delivered babies without any help from a doctor. It’s the most natural thing in the world. Our grandmothers worked in the morning, gave birth in the afternoon then went back to work in the evening.”

“I’m so glad your wife can’t hear you now.”

Another yelp, louder this time. “Uh, guys. I think this baby wants out!”

“It’s going to be alright,” Allen said without much conviction behind it, then to Quinn he said, “I need a bowl of warm water, some towels and a clean sheet to wrap the baby in. Freshly laundered.”

“In the hall, linen closet to the right,” said Nancy. “There’s a dishpan for the water, under the sink in the bathroom, two doors down on the right.”

The girl had a good head on her shoulders, especially given her current state.

Quinn left the room and came right back. “Should I tell her parents? I should tell her parents.”

“I wouldn’t,” said Nancy. “Mom will just cry, and dad will yell. It won’t be pretty.”

Quinn left again.

Allen stripped off his jacket and tie and rolled up his sleeves. He stared at his own hands a moment, as if they were foreign objects. “I need to go washup.”

“Two doors down on the right,” said Nancy then she yelped in pain. “And hurry cause, he’s not waiting.”

This was nuts. She’d only just gone into labor! Some women were in labor for a full day before giving birth. But then most women waited 9 months and didn’t claim to have an alien as a baby-daddy.

Quinn was coming out of the bathroom with the pan of water as Allen went in to wash up.

“What are we about to do?” Quinn asked and he looked a little pale.

“Deliver a baby of some kind.” Allen went into the bathroom and Quinn followed.

“And what are we going to do if. . . .you know. . . it’s not human?”

“Of course it’s human,” Allen snapped back as he soaped up. “She lied about when it happened and how it happened, and she just happens to be one of those people that goes from labor to birth very quickly. You hear stories all the time about women giving birth in elevators and taxis because the baby came so unexpectedly. Nothing unusual at all about this.”

“If you say so.” Quinn left to gather the towels.

By the time they returned to Nancy’s room, the baby was crowning.

They moved her close to the edge of the bed and then Allen pulled the chair over so he was positioned between her open legs. That felt a little wrong, so he said, “excuse my familiarity but—”

“At least you’re still here!” said Nancy and then she started to push.

Quinn sat on the edge of the bed and held the girl’s hand. He told himself it was purely an attempt to comfort the frightened teen (who was the least frightened person in the room) and not a tactic to keep from looking at the thing that was getting birthed.

“You’re doing fine,” Allen said sounding like he was coaching himself and not her. “The head and shoulders are the hard part and you’re almost there!”

Quinn wanted to ask if the head was roundish with two eyes, two ears and a nose. As opposed to bulbous with two giant eye sockets, or with skin like a reptile.

“One more push!”

She pushed and Allen reached for the clean sheet.

“It’s a boy!” He declared and the sound of a child’s first cry made them all sigh with relief.

Quinn couldn’t resist a peek. The child was slimy and pink with a snaky tube of flesh attached to his stomach. Couldn’t get more alien looking than that.

Allen wrapped the baby in the sheet then laid the bundle on Nancy’s stomach, umbilical cord still binding them together.

On a second look, Quinn decided that the baby didn’t really look like an alien – no more so than any other human baby. As a matter of fact, he kind of looked like. . . he glanced at the photos on the wall. . . yep, Ricky Nelson.

“Doc! You delivered a baby.”

Allen stopped mid-action of washing his hands in the pan of water. “Look at that. I did.”

“I helped a little,” said Nancy, her energy fading.

“She still needs a doctor,” said Allen. “I’d rather not have to cut the cord and a professional should examine the baby.” He looked at his hands which were cleaner but not clean. “I’ll wash up and then talk to that deputy. See if he can get a doctor over here.”

Allen left the room.

“Mr. . . “

“Quinn. Michael. What do you need?”

“I’m feeling a little shaky. Could you hold him for me for a bit?”

“Sure,” said like he wasn’t. Quinn pulled the chair around to the side of the bed then carefully lifted the breathing bundle into his arms. He sat down, wary of the cord, cautious of the head, generally nervous about taking charge of a delicate creature only a few minutes old.

“Just gonna close my eyes for a minute,” said Nancy.

“Go ahead. I’ve got him.” He held the baby in the crook of his arm and used the corner of the sheet to wipe away a few traces of mucus. It must have tickled because the baby smiled. He made typical ‘aren’t you a cute baby’ noises and patted the baby’s tiny little nose.

The baby wiggled inside his swaddling, then his face got red and he started to cry.

“Aw, what’s the matter, sweetie? Don’t like being all bundled up? I don’t blame you.” Quinn loosened the sheet a little here and a little there and with every loosen he felt the baby wiggle and shift more and more and more. He stopped crying and a big smile curled his lips. “That’s better!” But something was still moving. Something snakelike. Not the cord. Not the baby’s tiny endowment.

Quinn was thinking what he needed was a diaper. That was when the forked tail made its way out from under the sheet. It danced a little in the air then circled Quinn’s arm like a boa constrictor.

“Shit. DOC!”

“Doc! Doc!”

Allen tumbled out of the motel room bed and sleepily stumbled over to the other twin where Quinn was thrashing around like a goldfish minus his bowl. He shook him by the shoulder, then shook him harder and added a sharp, “Captain! Wake up!” into the mix to rouse him from his fitful sleep.

Quinn shot up so fast they bumped heads which sent Allen backwards with a cry of pain.

“Alien!”

“Allen,” Hynek corrected.

“No. The baby. It’s an alien!” Quinn looked down at the creature in his arms which was only a pillow.

“You were having a nightmare.” Allen rubbed his head, groaned and went back to bed. “I told you not to watch that horror movie. I said, it’s going to give you nightmares and I was right.”

Quinn threw his legs over the bed and surveyed the room. Basic mid-level motel. No Nancy. No Ricky Nelson pictures. No baby.

“I dreamed we had a baby.”

“You and I? That would be one for the medical journals.”

Quinn threw the pillow at Hynek’s head. “The girl who claimed she was abducted had the baby. You delivered it. I was holding it. It had a tail.”

“Was it a boy?” Allen asked.

“Yes.”

“Then maybe you were just holding it backwards and thought it was a tail when it was really - --”

“I’ve been a boy all my life, I think I know the difference.”

Allen laughed. “Either way, it was just a dream. I’m going back to sleep.”

Quinn didn’t move to lay back down.

“Doc.”

“Yes?”

“What would we have done? With Nancy’s baby. If it really was fathered by an alien. What would we have done? We couldn’t let her keep it, but we couldn’t kill it. Alien or not, it was just a baby.”

Allen rolled over and looked at him as if he’d just suggested that the moon was made of cheese. “I know we’ve seen a lot of strange things, heard a lot of strange stories, but I don’t think we have to worry about alien babies. Go to sleep.”

Quinn laid back down, but he didn’t shut his eyes. He never thought they’d have to worry about strange lights in the sky or Nazi’s building rockets, cars with a mind of their own and frightened men who set themselves on fire and took hostages just to set themselves free.

It was only a matter of time before they, themselves had a close encounter of the 3rd kind. He’d opened a freaky door the day he signed on to Project Blue Book. Whatever doubts he’d had at the time were now gone with the wind. It wasn’t just a dream – Quinn was convinced that his little nightmare was a prophecy of things to come.

The only question left was the one Hynek had proposed that day in Washington. Do they come in peace or do they come for war?

  
The End


End file.
